


Burn

by takashi_shirogayne



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, but i like how it turned out so maybe y'all will too, hamilton is a shit dad, i have made so many people suffer with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takashi_shirogayne/pseuds/takashi_shirogayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late at night, Philip hears his mother singing. He usually loves the sweet sound of her voice, but tonight something is different. He decides to go investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

Philip Hamilton was sleeping peacefully. Or, at least he was until he woke up to the scent of something burning. More specifically, burning paper. The young boy climbed out of his bed, wondering what that could possibly be.  
He descended down the stairs, and was soon a bit relieved as he started to hear the sweet sound of his mother’s voice. As he continued to go down the steps, the clearer her voice got. Was she… singing? At this hour? Though Philip was only nine, he was clever. People often joked that he was smarter than his father, but the boy knew that wasn’t true. Nevermind that, Philip thought. If I go any closer, mother will hear me sneaking around. He sat on the bottom of the steps; close enough to hear Elizabeth, yet far away enough that she wouldn’t notice him, and began to listen to her soothing voice.

 

You and your words flooded my senses...  
Your sentences left me defenseless...  
You built me palaces out of paragraphs; you build cathedrals…

 

Philip had to smile at that. Elizabeth was clearly singing about his father. He knew that they loved each other a lot. But how come the melody of this song is so sad? Philip wondered. It was a complete mystery to him, and he almost forgot that he was supposed to be listening. But by the time he continued to pay attention to the song, it was much different.

 

Do you know what Angelica said? When she read what you’ve done?  
She said, “You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.

 

Icarus? As in... That Greek myth? Philip wondered. He knew it well. It was one of his favorite stories. Icarus was a boy who, in short, dug his own grave due to his carelessness. His foolishness. So why did his aunt compare his father to someone like that? What exactly had he done that Philip didn’t know about? He decided that it was best to just listen to the rest of his mother’s aria. That’s strange, he thought. She’s not going to explain what happened? It is getting late… Maybe I should stop sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, and just go back to bed. Well, at least, that’s what he had planned to do. But something caught his attention. 

 

You forfeit all rights to my heart  
You forfeit the place in our bed  
You’ll sleep in your office instead, with only the memories of when you were mine

 

Whatever my father has done… surely is serious. Philip knew his mother to be a sweet, patient, understanding woman. I just wish I knew what happened, he thought frustratedly. It was no time to think about that though. Philip was almost positive that he had heard footsteps. His mother must be done singing. She’s probably going up to, what used to be my parents room, to get some rest. It was late, and Philip decided that he needed to sleep as well now. He started to run up the stairs before he was spotted. But of course, it was only natural that he fell with a loud thud. Oh no, he thought. There was a pause, that probably only lasted for three seconds, but to Philip it felt like a century.   
“Philip.”  
He turned around slowly to see his mother standing behind him. He winced as he prepared to be scolded. But to his surprise, she said nothing of the sort. Not a “Why are you awake at this hour?”, or a cautious “Did you hear any of that?” No, Elizabeth walked up the stairs toward her son, outstretched a hand to help him up. Philip slowly took her hand, stood up, and brushed himself off quickly.  
“M-mother, I-”  
She shushed him and smiled. A real, genuine smile that disappeared so quickly, Philip thought he had imagined it. What soon replaced it though was a weak, mirthless smile.  
“You look just like him.”


End file.
